Ying Yang
by SaitouuRyuuji
Summary: In his life all he's ever felt is loneliness and sorrow.  When he finally finds something that makes him happy he must give his all to protect that which he grows to love.  As things become complicated in his life will he be able to keep his promises? A/U


Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters but this is going to be a fun series to write. I know this is short but this is the prologue. I already have chapter 1 in the works and I promise that there will be more. I just wanted to paint this type of picture for the prologue, and I think that if you read it you'll understand.

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><p>Bloodoath<p>

Written by: SaitouuRyuuji

The sun set, painting the clouds crimson, the same color as the blood splattered on the pavement; rivulets of blood sluggishly percolated through the cracks and crevices, away from a crumpled heap, a dying man in his middle ages. Another figure knelt beside the bloody body frantically applying pressure to a gunshot wound in an unrewarding attempt to stem the bleeding. The bullet had gone clean through so no matter how hard he kept pressure on one side of the wound, blood still escaped through the hole in the bleeding man's back. The kneeling man had stark white long hair that hung loosely around his powerful, immense frame, the ends stained red; he's once immaculate clothes also painted red. He was quite young for his size and kept muttering indistinctly to himself as he used his police uniform to help soak up the blood. Overhead distant thunder rumbled angrily and the bright red slowly drained from the clouds as dark steel gray thunderheads crept in. The dying man's head started to lull to the side as if he were falling asleep.

"Sarutobi Sensei, please stay with me. Don't fall asleep, help will be arriving soon."

Sarutobi blinked his eyes rapidly before smiling kindly his lips flecked with his own blood. His eyes were half closed with his hands resting limply beside him. He licked his lips and grimaced as if he had tasted something bad. "Jiraiya, I don't have…" he halted taking in raspy breaths before continuing, "I don't have much time and must tell you something."

"Don't say a word, save you strength." Jiraiya growled, too stubborn to acknowledge how close to death's door his police captain was.

The sun sank below the mountains and the clouds darkened, looking more like the roiling undersides of ocean waves than a storm. The air smelled of rich earth as stray raindrops hit the ground before turning into a lazy drizzle. The white haired man took no notice when the weather took a turn for the worse into a heavy downpour, or that his clothes were clinging to his giant frame.

"Jiraiya, dear friend, you know as well as I do I am in my last moments."

Jiraiya said nothing, continuing to apply pressure to the offending hole of a wound. His attempts went unrewarded, his police uniform, wet from the rain, only squelched and sanguine fluid oozed out onto his hands dying them red.

The sky grew pitch-black only to flash white as lightning arched across the sky, accompanied soon after by a thunderclap. So quick to follow was the thunder that it rattled the ground the sound a mix between a rockslide and angry, roaring lion. The deluge only intensified, slapping the flooded pavement so hard a fine mist of water droplets raised above the ground, almost looking like an aura. Jiraiya clenched his jaw, forced to kowtow to the looming reality that his lifetime friend and father figure from his younger days in the police academy was dying, his life force slowly being snuffed out like a candle flame. With the loyal heart of a samurai Jiraiya vowed he would stay with his comrade until death.

"Jiraiya." Sarutobi whispered, his voice starting to fail him, though loud enough to catch Jiraiya's attention. Through halted breathes Sarutobi continued. "There's something I must tell you."

Jiraiya sat back on his heels and stared at the brown-haired man expectantly while shivering slightly finally feeling the frigid weather around him.

"Jiraiya, I'm sorry I didn't tell you this earlier…about the death of yo…your…family." Sarutobi whispered between raspy breaths. Rain washed the blood away that had accumulated around his body.

Sarutobi had Jiraiya's full attention now, his eyes went wide and his eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. His body felt numb. The subject of his family had always been a sore subject, mainly because he was alive while his family-father, mother and twin brother-were dead. Jiraiya tightened his fists in self-loathing. In shame he remembered running out of the house in anger after a stupid argument with his father. His mother had tried to calm him down, but in the end it hadn't been much good; he had stormed off to cool himself down. Later when he came back to apologize, he was greeted with a blood bath. He had only been twelve at the that time and had always felt guilty for managing to be the only surviving member of his family. He only survived because he had ran away in anger to be alone after having a rather nasty argument with his father. When he came back to apologize for his bad behavior, he was greeted with a bloodbath. No matter what people said he knew that he should have died with them. Sarutobi, who had been named Jiraiya's godfather, had taken cared of him ever since. That had been seventeen years ago.

"Jiraiya, please don't blame yourself." Sarutobi wheezed. Jiraiya furrowed his eyebrows and looked away, Sarutobi knew him all too well.

"Don't blame yourself," Sarutobi repeated his voice seeming to fade. "It was the…"Sarutobi was cut off as he seized up coughing and gagging on his own blood. Jiraiya grimaced and gently lifted Sarutobi's torso off the ground so he could speak without choking. "It was the Akatsuki…Orochimaru also works for that crime syndicate. The leader's name is…" It was no use Sarutobi continued to cough and hack up blood, cringing as his body was wracked with pain. Blood dribbled down his chin and Jiraiya carefully wiped it away. "Pain." Sarutobi managed to finish, the word tumbling out before Sarutobi exhaled abrasively before going limp in Jiraiya's arms.

Jiraiya blinked, slightly confused, it took him a minute to piece together Sarutobi's last sentence. For a second he thought Sarutobi had been in so much pain that he couldn't bear it and had cried that word out in agony. After some mental examination Jiraiya realized the leader's name was Pain.

"Jiraiya…" a distant feminine voice called out and running footsteps could be heard sloshing through puddles as they got closer. Jiraiya heard his name be called but he didn't answer back, he just continued to stare at the dead man in his arms. Anger burned deep inside him, turning to unadulterated rage.

The rain continued to pour and Jiraiya drew his godfather's lifeless form closer to his own. Sarutobi's body had been broken physically but Jiraiya was broken spiritually. His godfather, who had also been his police academy teacher was dead in his arms, a victim of betrayal. As Sarutobi's head lulled backwards, Jiraiya gave into his sorrow and hugged the limp body fiercely to his body. Water ran down his cheeks those whether they were tears of from the rain nobody would be able to tell. Fresh blood soiled Jiraiya's sodden clothing and Jiraiya gritted his teeth.

Jiraiya?" A woman shrieked when she saw the chaos. Everywhere around him was bloody and Jiraiya looked like he had rolled around in the thick of it. Despite the fact that the pounding was washing away most of the gore, he was covered in it, not that it bothered him. Jiraiya ignored the blonde dressed in a dress coat, skirt and high heels. He growled and gently set Sarutobi back on the ground. With a trembling hand he dabbed his finger in Sarutobi's blood before bringing it up to his face to trace a red line down from under his eye to his cheek, he also did this with the other one. The woman fell to her knees at a loss for what to say. Always weak around blood she froze and stared in horror as Jiraiya painted his face with blood.

"This is a blood oath between you and me Sarutobi; I swear to you that Orochimaru will pay for his treachery. I will make sure he suffers."

Another flash of lightning arched across the clouds lighting Jiraiya's face eerily. The woman stumbled back in fear.

"Jiraiya…" The woman whimpered in fear.

Jiraiya grunted as he slowly got off his knees, his legs stiff and cold. He didn't bother to stretch them though as he bent down and picked up Sarutobi's supine form from the rain soaked ground. He stared at the woman on the ground.

"Tsunade, why did you follow me?"

Tsunade cowered in fear at Jiraiya's hard expression, the blood dripping down the traced lines under his eyes as if he were crying blood.

"I just…I just wanted to make sure…you were alright." Tsunade whimpered, she had always been jittery when she saw blood. Seeing Jiraiya like this was scaring her half out of her mind, he was acting as if he had been possessed by a demon. She had never seen him pushed to his limis and she hoped to never see him like this ever again. It took a minute, but Jiraiya realized how wild and harsh he came across to Tsunade, his shoulders slumped slightly and his faced dropped, all the anger draining from his body. he felt weak and vulnerable, shivering uncontrollably.

"No I'm not all alright Tsunade. I just lost everything tonight."

He then hefted Sarutobi into a more comfortable position and moved away from the crime scene. As a policeman he knew he should have kept the body there, it was a crime scene after all. He just couldn't leave Sarutobi there on the cold, flooded ground though, it just didn't feel right. With jolting steps Jiraiya walked away from the bloody scene. As he walked away the rain washed away any remaining traces of Sarutobi's blood into a gutter not too far away. The rain then slacked off slowly from a horrendous downpour to a mild, gentle rain.

Tsunade woke up out of her horror trance and ran after Jiraiya's retreating form yelling, "As soon as you get home you should get dried off, wouldn't want you catching a cold."

In a distant, tired voice Jiraiya replied, "Don't worry about me Tsunade, you should be thinking of your own health. I wouldn't want you dying of pneumonia."

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><p>AN: so what did you think? I really enjoyed writing this and painting a picture of what was in my head. I was experimenting with nature to help portray the mood of the character and i hope I did a good job. :D Nature can be crazy and sometimes it just feels like mother nature is crying with you. I could almost hear the rain hitting the ground (in my mind). I'm going to enjoy writing this story that's for sure. There needs to be more details probably but this is a good start at least right? Did I do a good job with the emotions of this piece? There will be more, to come :D.


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